Listen With Your Heart
by ZabuzasGirl
Summary: Separated from her brother at the tender age of four Phoebe Parker grew up never knowing her twin existed. Then at the age of seventeen events are put in motion that'll reunite the pair after so many years apart, but there comes a heavy price. For Phoebe Connors numerous hurtles will be thrown her way. Question is, will the daughter of the Lizard rise or fall? -Based on ASM Films-
1. Chapter 1

Listen With Your Heart Prologue

It was raining outside again. There were few days when it wasn't since now the fall season had finally set in. With such an intense downpour of rain originating from the present storm it was almost near impossible to go outside and play in this heinous weather. So any restless children would just have to make do with what was available to them inside of their own homes. Little Peter and Phoebe Parker were of no exception to this.

Peter Parker and his sister Phoebe may have been twins at birth, but their idea of fun was entirely different. The two couldn't be more opposite of each other. Peter was nearly bored out of his mind after being confined inside for so long. So this day he decided to play a game of hide and seek drawing their Father Richard Parker into it. With a bit of badgering he convinced Richard to play a round with him.

On the other hand Phoebe held absolutely no interest in joining in on the gam. She was more than content to sit quietly up in her room with a pile of her favorite picture books at her side which was exactly what she was doing right now at the time. She was sitting cross legged on her warm comfy bed surrounded by a variety of her cherished stuffed animals along with a little collection of picture books beside her with one in her lap currently. At one-point Phoebe caught the voice of her brother calling for Father downstairs. She didn't think anything further of it. Peter was probably already tired of the game and was calling for Dad in order to do something else.

After a few minutes behind the constant sound of heavy rain pounding against her window there were heavy loud footsteps roaring up the stairs. Seconds later Phoebe startled as her door slammed open with her father bursting into the bedroom.

Richard Parker was a man in his early thirties. He was a very calm collective man and to those who knew him would find it difficult for anything to unsettle him. But that was before and after he found his office ransacked this certainly wasn't the case. Upon entering his eyes had been frantic as he scanned the room for her fearing what he might find or in this situation wouldn't.

Seeing his daughter was unharmed Richard rushed over to Phoebe taking her into his arms embracing her tight extremely relieved. Little Phoebe may be only four years of age, but even she knew something seriously wasn't right.

Looking up at her father head tilted to the side, Phoebe asked "What's wrong, Daddy?"

Stroking her hair with an intense look in his eyes, decided, Richard stated "We're leaving."

Taking the suitcase, he'd placed in the hallway before his entrance, Richard started packing her clothes into the small bag. There already wasn't a lot of room inside as it was and they needed to travel light for what he was planning so he was trying to fit in as much as he could. Except for a few of his daughters most prized possessions like her precious picture book everything else would have to be left behind. There wasn't enough time to do another bag. He barely had room for the picture book afterwards. In the end it was a tight fit, but he managed to zip it all shut. During this time he was merely sitting quietly confused, but unwilling to say anything to her father.

When Richard was done he took the baggage he'd been able to gather making sure she was dressed properly for travel in the current weather. Afterwards he took her into his arms carrying her out in one while holding the suitcase in the other. Below in the mudroom near the front door Mary Parker was getting Peter situated into his coat with a similar suitcase similar to his twins next to him. Mary was doing her best to keep her emotions in check, but thinking and actually doing it was challenging. Tears were glistening at the corners of her eyes, but her strength of will keeping them at bay. As she was fussing with her son's hair she spotted her husband and daughter. She became somewhat relieved as if she'd expected something horrible to happen to them during the small window they'd been out of her sight.

Placing Phoebe on her feet beside Peter, taking his wife's hand, Richard said "Do we have everything?"

Running a trembling hand through her hair, Mary said "Yes, I think so."

Nodding, Richard said "Good we can't risk leaving anything behind."

As Richard was doing a quick double check the twins were huddled very close together. They could sense something important was occurring. Just staying together put them at ease to an extent.

After glancing at their kids, leaning in towards his wife, Richard whispered "Did you call the cab?"

Instantly Mary released a choked sob hand slapped to her mouth to stifle it and in the process causing the restrained tears to pour out.

"Mary," urged Richard, eager to know if she did or not.

Refusing to utter a single syllable for fear she'd begin crying in earnest Mary rapidly nodded in an extremely reluctant, yes.

"That's good," breathed Richard, relieved. "I want you to wait here with Peter for the taxi to arrive. The moment it's here take Peter and my briefcase over to Ben's. I'll join you there as soon as I can. I'll take the car over the bridge bringing Phoebe to Curt's."

"Richard, I know this plan is what we agree upon if it ever came to this, but they shouldn't be separated. It isn't right. They're twins they need to stay together," begged Mary, desperately. Leaving her only children behind was hard enough carrying the knowledge she'd probably never see them again, but thinking about them being raised separately from each other killed her inside.

Richard was sympathetic to the emotional state his was caught in, but refused to allow it to consume him as the grief was obviously doing to her. He knew what had to be done and nothing was going to stop him from finishing what he'd started.

Holding Mary to him as she buried her face in her hands shoulders trembling in an uncontrollable manner in order to reassure her everything was all right. Kissing her head, Richard whispered "I know this is hard for you, Mary, it is for me too, but this has to be done. Keeping them together is a dangerous risk tot heir own safety. At least this way they'll both have a chance."

Slowing her breathing to a point where she could keep it under control avoiding hyperventilation, Mary agreed, saying "Of course, Richard, you're right. I understand we need to do this."

Right then Mary felt a tug on her pants leg causing the two to look down finding while they'd been occupied with the issue at hand Phoebe approached them on silent feet Fortunately it didn't look like she'd heard anything they'd said especially judging by what she mentioned next.

Head tilted voice tiny, Phoebe asked "Mamma, why are you crying? Is something wrong?"

Cupping her daughter's cheek Mary knelt so she was eye level with the girl.

The second her Mother's upper half was within reach Phoebe leapt forward wrapping her arms as tight as she could around Mary's neck snuggling close. Content, Phoebe sighed "Don't cry, Mama. Everything's going to be all right. We're here together."

Instead of trying to make things better for her Mother Phoebe in reality only made things worst emotionally than they already were. Without restraint Mary pulled Phoebe to her almost crushing her in the embrace. Phoebe released a squeal of discomfort, but didn't attempt to break free too stunned to act. Stretching an arm Mary reached out toward Peter silently asking him to come to her. He obeyed, but not before casting an unsure glance at his father. Like his sister he was confused, but didn't question what was happening.

Unfortunately, there was still so very little time in the narrow window presented was rapidly shutting the longer they chose to remain together in one place.

Reluctantly Richard felt it was time to depart no matter how much it hurt. "Times up," he said.

Mary separated herself from her children not bearing to look at her daughter she turned her back on her.

"Mama," said Phoebe, starting to become frightened beyond belief. Same as before no response was provided to soothe her fears.

Wordlessly Richard took Phoebe in had moving to the door, saying "Come along, Phoebe."

Phoebe looked back to her Mother and brother thinking they were joining them, but instead saw them staying where they were with Mary keeping Peter in place preventing him from following. Peter was feeling the exact same confusion even stronger than before as he looked to his sister.

Tugging urgently on her Father's arm as he opened the door, Phoebe asked "Why aren't Mama and Peter coming with us? Aren't we going together?"

Shaking his head, Richard said "No, your Mother and brother are going somewhere else. They won't be following us."

Eyes widened, the twins screamed "No!"

"Phoebe, there's no time for this we have to leave now," said Richard, bending low to lift her into his arms as he took them out into the rain carrying her suitcase.

But with this new piece of gained knowledge Phoebe wasn't about to be taken away quietly not without her beloved sibling. Punching and kicking fighting with all her might to break free, Phoebe shrieked "No! I won't go! Peter! Peter!"

"Phoebe," screamed Peter, desperately trying to reach his sister.

This whole ordeal left the twins to fight unsuccessfully to reach the other arms moving further than closer their cries breaking the hearts of their parents. With the door now between them as a barrier it made things even more real.

After Richard put her in the backseat Phoebe was banging on the window calling for Peter trying to get out. Somehow Peter had escaped from their Mothers grip making it to the door where he too was banging on the glass unable to get it to budge open. As Richard was driving away Phoebe sobbed tears pouring from her eyes in streaming rivers of uncontrollable grief. Her and Peter's eyes were locked as one until the distance grew too far corners turned down alternate paths. Neither realized or were aware this was going to be absolutely the last time they would ever be united again for many years to come.

For most of the ride to where her Father was taking her Phoebe did nothing but cry. She did so without uttering a single word. Eventually the cries subsided leaving Phoebe tightly curled in the corner of the backseat.

Glancing at her through the rearview mirror, Richard murmured "Everything's going to be all right, Phoebe." Although he was attempting to keep her calm his words were more meant to reassure himself than her. Inside he hoped he was doing the right thing.

Soon after Richard reached their destination the home of his colleague and best long-term friend Curt Connors. With how fast he'd been driving the car skidded to a stop in the rain. He knocked on the front door and when no one came to the door fast enough he repeated the action more insistent. It brought the wanted reaction. Seconds after the door opened revealing Curt Connors.

Surprised to find his friend making a call to his home this late in the evening, Curt said "Richard?"

Immediately there were let into the house. After Richard sat Phoebe on the couch in the living room he and Curt went into the kitchen to talk. They spoke in whispers hushed tones making it difficult for Phoebe to hear. So she'd risen from the coach slowly making her way to the kitchen. Peeking inside Phoebe saw the two of them were arguing profusely about something while Curt was exhibiting anger along with a great deal of hesitance. Phoebe noticed her father's friend was missing an arm and she couldn't help but to stare intrigued by the sight.

Richard noticed his daughters wandering eyes and touching Curt's shoulder he drew him out of the argument. Gesturing with his head he made Curt aware if their little eavesdropper. They both looked at her.

When Phoebe saw the attention was now focused on her she retreated hiding behind the wall only part of her face visible. Upon looking at the little girl Curt sighed nodding his head finally agreeing to what Richard was asking of him despite fully disagreeing with it. Shaking his friends hand smiling Richard approached his daughter with a severe heavy heart.

Kneeling so he was near the same height as Phoebe, Richard said "You're going to stay with Daddy's friend Uncle Curt for a little while."

"I want to go with you," said Phoebe.

Stroking Phoebe's hair he brought her head closer to him kissing her forehead gently. She clutched both of his hands hanging on as if it would keep her father with her. After what seemed like an eternity Richard finally let go.

Finding Curt had joined them he provided him with a few necessary facts for her stay with him. "She doesn't like crusts on her sandwiches, she likes to sleep with a little light on at night, and read a book before bed. Be sure to stop her after one session or she'll read the same book over and over again until she passes out," informed Richard, shakily.

Wanting to ease his friend's worries, Curt promised "I will."

Knowing he'd lingered in one place for longer than he should've Richard wisely went for the front door. Right after he turned the knob pushing open the door he felt a tug on the rear of his jacket. Turns out Phoebe had followed him over sticking to his side like glue.

"Dad," said Phoebe, widened eyes begging him to stay.

Smiling sadly Richard gently dislodged his daughters hand from his jacket, he said "Be good." Those were the last words he was ever going to speak to her.

Phoebe ran to the nearest window since she was unable to see through the solid wood of the door. Standing on tiptoe stretching as high as she could Phoebe watched somber as her Daddy got in the car driving away into the pouring rain. That was the final time she was ever going to lay eyes on him again or anyone else for that matter.

Feeling a hand on her shoulder Phoebe looked up to find the so named Uncle Curt standing above her. He'd watched Richard drive off too until the last possible second. Eyes closed a heavy sigh passed through his lips. He then smiled softly at the tiny vulnerable little girl staring at him whose entire world had been uprooted for life.

Curt Connor's steered her away from the window to get some food in Phoebe and put her to bed. Though Phoebe was attempting to keep it concealed he could tell behind her timid demeanor she was exhausted. Soon enough the events of this day along with the passed four years of her early life would fade from her memory. They'd be transformed from memories into dreams, but even these dreams would nearly disappear from existence only the smallest traces remaining.

One door closes and another one opens leading her on a journey that would alter her life forever. Everyone has their own destiny. For better or worst…well that was purely up to her.

 **Please Review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Listen With Your Heart Chapter 1**

A loud beeping alarm blared throughout the air awakening the only inhabitant of the room. Phoebe groaned from beneath the covers not wanting to get out of bed, but forcing herself to anyway. Head burrowed underneath a pillow Phoebe blindly waved for arm around searching for the alarm clock. When she did she instantly shut off the annoying sound.

Throwing off the covers Phoebe sat upright in bed yawning and stretching all the while trying to shake the sleep off, saying "That was the strangest dream."

During the night an image appeared in her dreams. She was standing alone in the middle of the thickest fog she'd ever seen. No matter which direction she turned there was no path leading out. The same thing happened when she called for someone to help her. Then a distant shadowed figure seemed to just appear out of thin air literally. The figures back was facing her so it wasn't easy to for her to tell the identity of this person. Judging by the stature of this man she simply assumed it was her father. Smiling she ran towards the man calling out to him as she went. At the sound of her voice the shadowed figure slowly begun to turn. Then at the exact moment when Phoebe was about to get a look at his face her alarm clock went off waking her before the mystery was solved.

Finding it unusual, but waving it aside as another regular dream she got out of bed.

Going over to her closet Phoebe pulled out an outfit she already selected prepared the previous night before. Whish were a pair of leggings, a tunic, and black flats to match. Once that was taken care of Phoebe carefully brushed out her long beautiful hair leaving a trace of a wave through the strands. Phoebe always took very good care of her skin so no amount of makeup big or small was necessary to apply. Her schoolbag an purse were already finished so there was no rush to take care of those leaving a small amount of extra time on hand.

"Papa," called Phoebe, entering the kitchen searching for her father. "Papa!" But the man was nowhere to be seen in the open layout.

Thinking her father might by chance still be in his room Phoebe checked in there to see if he was sleeping. Unfortunately he wasn't located there in face there weren't any signs of anyone had slept in there at all in the night. Then the solution struck her. It was so obvious she was mentally slapping herself for not thinking of it sooner. If he couldn't be found in any of the previous places there was one other area he could be.

Opening the door to the basement Phoebe walked down the spiral staircase entering her fathers spacious lab. Unlike the laboratory he was privileged to at Oscorp Curt Conners had this one to use both to continue work along with his own private personal projects. His daughter often found him down here asleep exhausted at his desk that is exactly where he was now. Really he was that predictable. Phoebe figured he must've deep into his work last night judging by the mess of books and papers surrounding his head on the surface of the desk. Maneuvering around the desk to his side phoebe gently shook his shoulders attempting to wake him up.

"Papa," whispered Phoebe, leaning forward to gently kiss his head. "Papa, wake up."

Releasing a small deep groan Conners slowly straightened in his chair rubbing a hand to his face to clear the drowsiness from his head. Putting on his glasses Conner's saw who'd shaken him from slumber.

Smiling drowsily, Conners said "Ah, Phoebe, good morning." He then hesitated unsure. "It is morning isn't it?"

Nodding, Phoebe said "Yes it is."

Conners took in his surroundings coming to realize here he was. He chuckled knowing now he'd fallen asleep in his lab again as he'd been caught doing multiple other times before in the past.

He sighed "I feel asleep down here again didn't I?"

Nodding, sympathetic, Phoebe said "I'm afraid so."

Running a hand over his uncombed hair, Conners sighed "How many does that make it now?"

Going through the routine that's become second nature to her in rearranging the mess or papers on the desk into neat structured piles, Phoebe shrugged, saying "Don't recall. To be fair I lost count once we got passed a hundred." The exact moment Phoebe spoke this a grin cracked her lips a humorous twinkle appearing in her eyes.

Immediately Conners knew Phoebe was just having a little bit of fun messing with him. It was both for her own amusement and to get him to smile.

Rising, Conners scoffed "Very funny."

With Phoebe leading the way holding Conners hand to her the two climbed the spiral stairway returning to the main level of the house. The second they got to that section Conners went for his bedroom to freshen himself while phoebe went into the kitchen to prepare a quick breakfast. By the time he returned Phoebe had an egg sunny side up, bacon burnt to a crisp, and a small side of toast his favorite was waiting for him.

"Something smells good," said Conners, eyeing the food Phoebe had laid out on the counter attempting to adjust his tie. Like a majority of the time it was proven to be extremely difficult with the use of one hand.

"It looked like you had a rough night and I had just enough extra time on my hands to make your preferred breakfast," I said smiling as I put the food at his place on the table next to the daily newspaper. "Let me help you with that."

Taking the disgruntled tie out of his grip I set to fixing the disaster it'd become. Once it was properly arranged Phoebe smoothed the creases on his shirt, saying "There all done. Now you can go to work without resembling someone just coming out of a late night bar."

The final part was added in since she knew how sensitive he still was on the subject involving his lack of a right arm. She saw it in his eyes each time she assisted him in this fashion and this was no different. The right cure for this ailment of his was to cause him to laugh and like always it worked like the perfect charm.

Conners chuckled "What would I do without you, my little Phoebe?"

Shrugging, she said "Probably wasting your life away all alone a mess with only numerous experiments to keep you company day in and out."

"Wouldn't that be the way to live," joked Conners, sarcastically as he told his seat at the table.

Laughing Phoebe joined him there with her own smaller proportioned morning meal another sunny side egg and toast. As she went to take the first bite she nearly had a heart attack when she looked at the time. A single glance at it made her jump.

"Omg," screamed Phoebe, bursting out of the kitchen to her room, I'm going to be late for school!"

"Do you need a ride," offered Conners, concerned, "I can drive you."

"No, no," refused Phoebe, coming back out with her purse and school bag hanging off of her shoulders, gesturing for him to stay seated, "finish your breakfast, Papa. You know I'd rather take my bike to school. It's good exercise for me."

"All right," conceded Conners, "but you should at least eat something. You haven't even touched any of your breakfast yet."

Waving a dismissive hand, Phoebe said "I'll eat at the school. If I leave now I can still make first period with a few minutes to spare."

"Phoebe," warned Conners, brow raised.

Clearly annoyed Phoebe marched back over to the table grabbing the toast from her plate. Glaring at her father, reply muffled by the toast, she said "Happy?"

"Quite so," said Conners, satisfied. She may only be consuming toast, but it was something until she got to school.

On the way to the front door Phoebe bent to give her him a fleeting kiss on the cheek. "Bye, Papa," she said, "I'll see you later."

"Be safe, Phoebe," said Conners.

"I will," she said, exiting the house. Taking the front steps down two at a time until she reached the driveway.

Punching in the code to open the garage Phoebe entered making a beeline for her bike. Finishing the slice of toast in three large neat bites she rolled the bike out of the garage. At the edge of the driveway before she mounted onto the vehicle Phoebe turned to look back at the house particularly the large window from the kitchen overlooking the front yard outside. The table was positioned right next to it allowing them to see each other.

Waving at Conners Phoebe blew him a kiss she got onto the bike and riding off. There was no longer any time for her to delay in the departure. As Phoebe pedaled away to school Conners waved back watching his daughter until she was out of sight. When that was so the smile he had disappeared entirely from his face.

Weighing heavily on Conners mind were the results of the experiments he'd done at work the day before and tried to formulate all night long. He'd constantly gone over the equations multiple times, but no improvement could be found. He knew his employer was getting impatient had been for a long time. Mr. Norman Osborn wasn't going to tolerate failure for another round of tests. It was time and money they weren't willing or going to spend. The decay rate algorithm was proving to be the one problematic aspect hindering the progress of this crucial research. Perhaps today's experiments would hold anything remotely close to being the breakthrough he needs.

If not…then time was running out leaving him and Phoebe vulnerable in serious danger. That was something he was never going to allow to become reality. He would keep Phoebe safe from harm at all costs. After all he di make a promise one he would rather die before breaking ever.

 **Please Review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Listen With Your Heart Chapter 2**

Phoebe barely made it to the Staten Island Ferry. The Ferry was the fastest way for anyone to get from Staten Island to the city. If she'd ended up missing that then she certainly would've been late for school. As it was she made it with plenty of time to spare before the first warning bell sounded at Midtown Science High School.

After Phoebe secured her bike at one of the few bike racks at the front of the school she rushed for her locker. She needed to retrieve a textbook before she got to her first class. Her locker was positioned in view of the bulletin board where pictures of this year's teams and clubs were hung.

A student in the same grade as her called Peter Parker was putting the newest ones there. Parker was the photographer for the school so it was a common sight for him to constantly be using his camera along with something else.

As Peter Parker was sticking a tack onto the picture for the debate team a basketball bounced off the side of the head. One of the schools basketball jocks Flash Thompson was the perpetrator. He, with two of his friends, laughed at Parker when he umped flinching at the impact.

"Sorry," said Flash, sarcastic. His grin revealing he obviously didn't mean it.

Taking it in stride, Peter said "Morning, Flash."

"Good morning, Parker," drawled Flash. As he walked passed him with his friends from the team Flash lunged at Parker in a bluff.

Thinking he was going to get hit Parker blanched only to figure out it was a fake.

Phoebe rolled her eyes at the immaturity of the jock having watched the entire encounter. She waited until the undesirable group left. She then took the opportunity to approach Parker once she shut her locker.

Peter was picking his skateboard from the floor when he saw her coming.

Smiling, Phoebe assured "Just ignore them, Peter. They're just jerks."

Nodding, Peter chuckled "When are they not?"

Phoebe gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder and then walked off to class.

Later on as Phoebe's English literature class in her homeroom their teacher Miss Zorski mad an announcement that had our girl very excited.

"Just to remind you all in a few months time the Emerging Authors Competition for the New York Times is coming up. So for those of you who are interesting, but haven't started your projects yet I suggest you get a move on," advised Miss Zorski.

Raising her hand, Phoebe asked "Miss Zorski, can you go over the rules again for this years competition?"

"Entre applications are right here on my desk," informed Miss Zorski, "for those of you who plan on entering. And remember the winner gets to have their work published."

The school bell rang signaling the end to this period and the beginning of lunch. While the rest of the class left to get a good seat outside for lunch Phoebe went to the teachers desk taking one of the applications there.

"How did I know," said Miss Zorski, kindly.

Abashedly Phoebe hid her face behind the application sheepish, asking "Was I really that obvious?"

Smiling, Miss Zorski said "You didn't have to be. You're a natural born writer, Phoebe. Anyone with any sense can see it especially in your schoolwork. I swear whenever ire ad the essays you submit for grading I can feel the emotional power lying beneath your words."

Shrugging, Phoebe disagreed, saying "I don't think so. I haven't written anything lately. I don't know why, but it's like my muse of inspiration just vanished without a trace."

Squeezing Phoebe's shoulder sympathetically in comfort, Miss Zorski said "I understand. Don't stress too much about this it'll. Underestimating yourself is a mistake you don't want to make. You'll be sure of yourself just give it time. Now hurry or you'll miss lunch."

During the majority of the lunch period Phoebe claimed one of the tables in the schools courtyard that was the outdoor cafeteria sitting on it with her notebook open. To Phoebe this Emerging Authors Competition was a chance for her to enter a world she'd been longing for most of her lifetime.

Growing up, when Phoebe reached a certain age, her father had lent her some old books to read, the first books the kid had ever read about anything. For the first time she saw a world that was bigger than the one she'd been born into. And she wanted more. She wanted to be something more. But being so young she had no idea what the word, writer, really meant. Certainly didn't have a clue about how to go about it.

As a child she'd always taken the time to write stuff down whatever came to mind in her thoughts, but never material of any true worth. With the combined support and guidance freely provided by both her father and teachers Phoebe has matured into a decent writer with marvelous potential. Only they couldn't assist her in this. Phoebe needed to do this task on her own.

But, whenever she turned the pages of a book, what once was her whole world suddenly seemed…small. Phoebe's life was so ordinary. Nothing had changed since she was a child. Except her, Phoebe had changed. For the very first time in Phoebe's life she truly did try to write. She tried to write about things she'd seen, how she'd felt. But the words just wouldn't come. Phoebe knew the life he wanted. She knew what she had to do to get it. She just need to know how with the correct motivation.

In Phoebe's absentminded frustration she failed to notice someone else approach until that person sat on the same table as her. Looking up from her work Phoebe smiled as she recognized whom her visitor was.

"Hey, Gwen," greeted Phoebe.

Gwen Stacy was a classmate of hers and had been for a while. Also, Gwen was the head intern of her fathers working in his labs assisting him at Oscorp Tower. Since Phoebe visits him there so frequently it's a common occurrence for them to run into each other regularly there.

"Hey, Phoebe," returned Gwen, taking a book out of her bag to read, "what are you doing?"

Waving her notebook, Phoebe frowned, saying "Well I'm trying and failing to think of something to write for the Emerging Author's Competition Miss Zorski told us about."

"Oh yeah I heard about that," said Gwen. "The ideas must be flowing in your head. So many you don't have any inclination what to do with it all."

Phoebe scoffed "If only that were the case. To the contrary there's absolutely no creativity left. I'm beginning to believe I'm spent in that department."

"Don't sulk, Phoebe, you look like a pigeon," jested Gwen, playfully.

Phoebe swatted at Gwen with her notebook laughing at her way of cheering her up.

"But seriously, Phoebe," encouraged Gwen, "I'm confident you'll think of a subject to write about. Remember, 'necessity is the creation of invention'."

Lifting her bottle of water in a toast, Phoebe saluted "Here's to hoping."

Their lunch was then rudely interrupted by an incident in the courtyard.

All of a sudden people converged on the opposite end of the courtyard. Whatever it was over was definitely riling them enough to get them to chant heartily in unison. The pair was so occupied with each other before they'd failed to pay attention.

Exchanging a look with Gwen, Phoebe questioned "What in the world is that all about?"

"Not sure, but lets go find out," said Gwen.

Gathering their things, the remainder of their lunches long forgotten the duo went to join the mass of students grouping together. Their curiosity was sated almost in an instant.

Shaking her head, Gwen sighed "Flash."

Indeed it was Flash and he was in the process of picking on an underclassman.

"Eat your vegetables, Gordon! Come on," said Flash, holding the kid upside down by the legs forcing him headfirst straight into his own plate of food. The kid had his eyes and mouth tightly shut head averted so the side of his head was in the food instead of the face. "Come on!"

This revolting display made Phoebe sick to her stomach especially with no one in a crowd of so many seemed to choose not help him.

"Hey, Parker, come on. Get a picture of this. Come on," smirked Flash, lifting Gordon high enough so Peter Parker could get a clear shot at Gordon's messed up face.

Shaking his head in refusal. Peter Parker said "I'm not going to take a picture. Put him down."

"Come on," said Flash.

"Put him down man," repeated Peter Parker. "Gordon, don't eat it. Don't eat it."

"Take the picture, Parker," spat Flash, increasingly impatient.

"Put him down, Flash," said Peter Parker.

Forcefully, Flash said "Take the picture."

Parker had enough of this. It was time to use his trump card.

"Put him down, Eugene," shouted Peter Parker.

Saying Flash's real first name was taboo to anyone that dared say it out loud on the school grounds in the student body. It definitely wasn't something he was initially proud of.

The moment Peter spoke it there was an immediate reaction. The students groaned and Flash tossed the helpless Gordon onto the cement eliciting a pained grunt from him.

"Hey, man," said Peter Parker, going to help him up, but Flash intercepted him.

Flash punched Parker square in the face throwing him to the ground. "Come on! Get up, Parker," goaded Flash, pumped.

Peter Parker rose to his feet, but unable to retaliate because Flash punched him in the gut. The breath knocked out of him Peter curled into a ball.

"Get up! Come on," sneered Flash, blunt, severely aggravated. "Come on!" He then kicked Peter directly in the stomach while he was down.

Phoebe winced as if she could feel each blow. Peter was going to be extremely lucky if nothing was broken.

Rolling onto his back wheezing, nearly inaudible, Peter rasped "I'm still not taking the picture."

"Stay down, Parker! Who wants one more," boasted Flash, the cheers egging him on. "One more! Huh? Huh?"

Phoebe wasn't the only person thoroughly disgusted of this embarrassing shameful spectacle.

Shoving her way out of the group Gwen stepping into the line of fire between Peter and Flash, calling "Flash!"

When Flash turned catching Gwen standing there it stopped him in his tracks. Her interference, also, caused everyone else to settle. As disagreeable as Flash was he'd never actually hit a girl.

"Flash, we still on for after school today. My house, 3:30," asked Gwen, brow raised subtly reminding him of the tutoring sessions they'd been undergoing together would shame him into ceasing his attack. "I do hope you've been doing your homework. Last time, I was very disappointed in you."

Flash tired to get around Gwen, but she simply matched his movements blocking him again.

"No, Flash, how about we go to class," said Gwen. "Hmm? How about it?"

On cue the school bell rang alerting everyone to the end of the lunch hour.

Firmly put in his place Flash walked away, muttering "Whatever."

Their main entertainment over and done with the students dispersed heading off to the next classed. One student couldn't resist kicking Peter's camera breaking the device.

Phoebe spared a glance at Peter Parker over her shoulder compassion rising within her heart seeing him struggling to stand after that beating examining the damaged remains of his camera. It was in disrepair, but replacing it would be costly. Resources he didn't exactly have access to.

In the next class the three coincided together neither bothered to resist checking on his welfare.

"I thought that was great what you did out there," allowed Gwen. "It was stupid, but it was great. You should probably go to the nurse. You might have a concussion."

Peter Parker didn't say anything back he just continued staring at her completely besotted.

Phoebe grinned covering it with her hair.

Smiling, Gwen asked "What's your name"

"You don't know my name," asked Peter, curious.

"Oh, she knows your name, as do I," said Phoebe. "She just wants to know if you know your name."

Nodding, he said "Peter Parker. Peter Parker."

"Okay. Okay, good," said Gwen, amused. "I'd still go to the nurse though."

"You're Gwen, right," inquired Peter, squinting his eyes in thought.

"Gwen Stacy," answered Gwen.

"And you're…Phoebe," asked Peter.

Nodding, Phoebe said "Phoebe Connors."

Absorbing the information, grateful, Peter said "Right."

 **Authors Note: Peter learns he has a sister in the next chapter. Wonder how he's going to react to that piece of news.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Listen With Your Heart Chapter 3**

Peter Parker was in his room frustrated beyond belief. When he'd gotten home from school that day he felt no qualms about helping his Uncle Ben in the basement. The fill line had exploded leaving water everywhere so he was helping save whatever they possibly could from water damage. While he was moving some stuff around what Peter didn't expect to find was an old briefcase under the staircase. But this wasn't just any briefcase. No, it had the initials _RP_ stitched on the front over the clasp. Those initials stood for his fathers name, Richard Parker.

Peter recalled his father having it on his person the night he and his mother vanished. So he'd taken it to his aunt and uncle wanting answers from them. From the moment they saw the briefcase in his possession they immediately became evasive about the subject. His Uncle Ben mentioned his father bought the briefcase at a store his mother used to work at as how they met. It was interesting, but it didn't distract him like they intended.

Shifting through it Peter was confused as to why his father would ask Uncle Ben to keep this safe for him. He found barely anything in there that could've been important. He pulled out a torn photo from a newspaper clipping of his father standing beside a man he'd never seen before. Ben informed he was unaware who the man actually was that he must've worked with his father at some point.

Peter had been about to leave for his room to investigate the rest of the stuff inside the briefcase further when something else fell from it. Picking it up he found something even weirder than the picture from the newspaper.

It was a photograph of him as a toddler, but he wasn't alone. There was a little girl next to him one he didn't recognize at all in the slightest. She seemed familiar somehow, but he couldn't place her. She obviously was important somehow because when he flipped the picture to show them both of their faces went completely white on contact. Neither of them knew how to answer him after that one.

So he'd left them alone barricading himself in his room. Searching further Peter located a hidden compartment inside the briefcase. There was a worn folder with notes, equations, and diagrams written specifically in his father's very hand. It all led down to something called the decay rate algorithm. Peter absolutely had no indication to what this meant, but knew it was important otherwise his father wouldn't have gone to take such care lengths to conceal it as he did.

Peter's investigative research was interrupted when he heard a knock on his bedroom door.

"Yeah, one sec, one sec," said Peter, hastily shoving the briefcase and folder under his bed and messing everything else the way he had it on the floor so whoever entered wouldn't get a clue on what he'd been doing. Sitting at his desk in front of the computer he unlocked the door. "Come in."

His Uncle Ben came in soon afterwards.

Leaning against the door, concerned, Uncle Ben asked "You okay?"

Lifting his head, Peter said "Yeah. What's up?"

"Oh my god," said Ben, smiling. "You look just like him." He referred to the glasses Peter was wearing in the place of his contact lenses. He'd found them mixed among his father's belongings in the briefcase. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," said Peter, nodding.

Stepping into the room Ben shut the door behind him so they wouldn't be overheard.

Fidgeting with a rubrics cube Peter had on his desk Ben sat on the bed, forlorn, Ben said "Listen, um…I don't have much education. You know that, Peter. Hell, I stopped being able to help with your homework when you were 10. What I'm trying to say is, uh…I know it's been rough for you without your dad and I know we don't talk much about them."

"Yeah, it's all right," said Peter, shrugging, dismissively.

"No, it is not all right," said Ben. "I wish I could change it but I can't." He paused coming a decision that he should've made a long, long time ago. "Curt Connors. That's the name of the guy in the picture with your dad. They worked together for years and they were close. But after that night…" He inhaled a deep breath struggling immensely with another secret one far more life changing. "Peter, there's something else you need to know."

"What," said Peter, definitely curious now.

"That girl in the photo with you…," said Ben. "She's your sister."

At first his uncles statement didn't really sink in with Peter. "W-What," stuttered Peter, bemused. "No, Uncle Ben, that's impossible. I don't have a sister."

"Yes, you do," insisted Ben, firmly, bleak. "She's your twin. When you two were little you were as close as could be. Nothing could tear you two apart."

Peter wanted to protest further, but after seeing the look in his uncles eyes concluded he was telling the truth. Peter felt like he'd been punched hard in the gut. A twin sister?

"Why haven't you guys told me about her until now," demanded Peter. "Where is she? What happened to her? Why isn't she with us?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ben explained "We asked those same exact questions of your parents the night they left you with us. Your father told us he didn't believe it was safe for you two to remain together. That it would be safer from whatever was chasing them if you were separated. So that night your mom brought you here while Richard took your sister somewhere else."

"Do you know who," asked Peter.

"Yes," said Ben. "Curt Connors. He took her to Curt Connors. After we didn't hear from your parents again and they were declared dead we contacted him to try and get her back. But when we did he refused. We tried everything we could think of to convince him to give her into our custody. Unfortunately, he wouldn't budge. Eventually he threatened us with lawyers so we had no choice but to back off. We never heard from his again after that. He never even called to keep us up to date with her. Not once. Go figure."

"Connors," repeated Peter, mulling over the name. "Connors." Suddenly his eyes went wide in realization. "Phoebe! Is her name Phoebe?!"

"Yes, that's her name," said Ben. "When you two were born your mother was determined to give you both names beginning with P. She thought it was cute."

"Uncle Ben, I know her," exclaimed Peter. "Phoebe Connors is in my class. We go to the same school!"

"Are you sure," questioned Ben.

Nodding rapidly, Peter confirmed "Yeah, I'm sure. I've never really spoken to her that much, but I do know her."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Ben chuckled "Well how do you like that. The world does work in mysterious ways."

"Do you think he put her in the same school as me so we might still interact withl each other," asked Peter.

Ben said "Couldn't exactly say after all I don't know the man, but I wouldn't be surprised if he did."

"Why don't I remember her and why doesn't she remember me," said Peter. "I have no memory of her at all."

"You two were both so young when it happened. I think it was so traumatic that you simply blocked it out," said Ben. He then stood up to leave. "Peter, I know you've just been hit with a lot right now, but don't tell your sister any of this. As far as your Aunt and I know Connors hasn't told Phoebe any of this. It's best to leave it alone for now."

"But-," argued Peter.

"No buts," said Ben, "I don't know how Connors would react if you told her so don't mention this to anyone."

Reluctant Peter agreed, saying "All right, Uncle Ben."

"Good," said Ben, patting Peter on the shoulder, "I'll see you down at dinner." Looking at the screensaver of his nephew's computer he smiled. "She's pretty."

Multiple pictures of Gwen Stacey were on the screen.

Embarrassed Peter turned away his face slightly red not meeting his uncle's eyes. Before Ben left Peter stopped him.

"Hey, Uncle Ben," said Peter.

"What," said Ben, half in and out the doorway.

"You're a pretty great dad, all right," said Peter.

That got to Ben. He was immensely touched restraining tears building in his eyes blinking them back. Smiling he left to join his wife closing the door.

The moment Ben left Peter grabbed the picture of his sister from the floor staring hard at it.

"I don't believe it," he breathed, softly. "A sister…I have a sister."

 **Authors Note: Hope you had an enjoyable Memorial Day! :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note: Hope you all had an outstanding 4** **th** **of July. In honor of the premiere of Spiderman Homecoming here is the next chapter. Enjoy!**

 **Listen With Your Heart Chapter 4**

The moment Uncle Ben left his bedroom Peter immediately jumped into the task of doing research on Curt Connors. Logging into Bing he typed in his fathers name alongside Curt Connors assuming since they worked together there should be some information on articles about them somewhere off the Internet.

Peter found one with the title _**Scientists at Oscorp Announce Impending Breakthrough**_. Oscorp, the exact same company name on the ide badge that was in the briefcase. When he clicked on the link a separate article from the Daily Bugle, a citywide newspaper popped up showing the photograph he got from his fathers possessions. The title of this article being _**Cross Species Genetics Science Fiction or Science Fact?**_ A related article was the plane cross that killed his parents.

This time using only Connors name he searched on Bing again. He found stuff specific on Connors own scientific research and published works. As explained in one of his essays _**A World Without Weakness**_ he emphasizes on the points everyone is equal in both their abilities and health. How cross species genetics can promise the world this future without any sort of deformities.

Accessing Oscorp Industries website there was a page on Intern Enrollment specifically under Dr. Connors tutelage. He mentors futures geneticists at Oscorp Industries. Unfortunately for Peter an update blinking on the bottom of the screen page said the opening for intern enrollment was closed.

Scrolling down there was an image of Oscorp Tower a building in Manhattan. The address was written leaving him a clear way to locate the place though a building as large as this one would already be difficult to miss. It towered over practically everything else in New York City.

Tomorrow Peter was going to take a trip to Oscorp determined to meet Curt Connors and maybe perhaps explore the facility a little for answers one way or another. It was a weekend so school wouldn't interfere in any way.

The very next day Peter did exactly this.

Peter didn't want to get aught up running errands his aunt and uncle might ask him to do so he made sure they didn't see him when he left the house.

When Peter got to Oscorp Towers he couldn't resist marveling at the grandness of the facilities stature both outside and in. Entering a person would think they'd would've just arrived at a meeting of the United Nations with how many people belonging to different ethnicities were mingling together.

Peter stood in the center of the lobby gaping at it all. Because of this lack of decorum his presence became noticed.

"Excuse me," called the receptionist at the front desk.

"What," said Peter, snapping his head in her direction approaching the desk.

"Can I help you," asked the receptionist.

"Oh, uh…," said Peter, leaning on the front of the desk, "I don't know. I'm here to see Dr. Connors."

"Right. You'll find yourself to the left," she said, gesturing to the right of the desk on her side.

Unsure to what she was referring to Peter stood there confused.

It definitely showed on his face. The receptionist was beginning to get suspicious at his clueless expression.

"You are here for the internship," asked the receptionist, brow raised.

"Yeah," said Peter, nodding, finally getting the gist to what was going on. "Yeah."

"Okay," she said, most likely believing at this point he was a nervous nerd. "You'll find your badge to the left."

"Oh," said Peter, pretending to look for a badge. Apparently he hesitated a second too long.

"Are you having trouble finding yourself?"

"No," said Peter, shaking his head, picking a random badge. "Yeah, I got it." He then showed it to her.

"Okay," said the receptionist, confirming the name, "Mr. Guevera."

Smiling, playing the act, Peter said "Gracias."

"De nada," said the receptionist, returning to her work.

Peter got on the escalator to join the interns at the assigned converging spot while listening to a recording playing from the buildings intercom system.

" _Welcome to Oscorp. Born from the mind of our founder, Norman Osborn, the Oscorp Towers houses 108 floors of innovation. Our scientific minds are pushing the boundaries of defense, biomedical, and chemical technologies. The future lies within."_

At the top of the escalator Peter found the group of eager interns waiting for their scheduled tour in Oscorp. Carefully Peter integrated himself in behind them. So far so good he was managing to keep his cover in place so not to be discovered.

That wasn't to last long.

"Welcome to Oscorp. My name's Gwen Stacy. I'm a senior at Midtown Science ad I'm, also, head intern to Dr. Connors," said Gwen, coming from the elevators. Peter lowered his head a hand partially over his face so she might not see him there. If she saw him his façade was done for. "So I'll be with you for the duration of your visit. Where I go you go. That's the basic rule. If you remember that all will be fine. And if you forget that then-."

"What is wrong with you?!"

A scuffle below caught everyone's attention. Security was dragging a protesting civilian out from the lobby. One with an interesting story getting increasingly frantic to convince security his identity.

"Listen. Tell them Rodrigo Guevera is down here! Please, just tell them Rodrigo Guevera is down here! My name's Rodrigo!"

Sheepish Peter covered his head even further.

"Well I guess I don't need to tell you what happens if you forget that," said Gwen, sarcastically. "Shall we?"

Gwen then led the group to the Cross-Species-Division with Peter following at the When they got to this department in Oscorp Towers they were greeted by none other than Dr. Curtis Connors himself.

"Come around this way," instructed Gwen, pointing to a section in the lab clear of any hazardous materials.

Exiting an isolated chamber in front of them, Connors greeted "Good afternoon, Gwen."

"Dr. Connors," responded Gwen in kind.

"Welcome. My name is Dr. Curtis Connors. And yes, in case you're wondering, I'm a southpaw," joked Connors.

The interns residing in the tour group laughed gently at his humor regarding his absent right arm.

"I'm not a cripple, I'm a scientist, and I'm the worlds foremost authority on herpetology. That's reptiles for those of you who don't know," explained Connors. "But like the Parkinson's patient who watches on in horror as her body slowly betrays her or the man with macular degeneration whose eyes grow dimmer each day, I long to fix myself. I want to create a world without weakness. Anyone care to venture a guess just how?"

Raising a hand at the invitation, eager, an inter suggested "Stem cells?"

"Yes, well, it's promising. But the solution I'm thinking of is more radical," hinted Connors. He waited for one of the interns to take another guess. But all had no indication what he was mentioning. "No one?"

"Cross-species genetics."

The tour group parted so the one who'd spoken could reveal himself. The whole time Peter kept himself in the back unnoticed. Now, involuntarily, he spoke before being able to catch the comment.

Connors gazed at this boy with a great deal of interest. He appeared familiar somehow, but failed to place him.

Gwen certainly had no such dilemma.

Gwen double-checked her list to see if he'd been scheduled on as an intern to take the tour. He was not his name was totally absent.

"Person gets Parkinson's when the brain cells that produce dopamine start to disappear. But a zebra fish had the ability to regenerate cells on command," continued Peter. "If you could somehow give tis ability to the woman you're talking about that's that. She's…she's curing herself."

The entire time Peter was answering Connor's hypothesis with his own the man never took his eyes off him for a minute. It was like hearing his very own words spilling from the kid's mouth.

"Yeah you just have to look past the gills on her neck." Commented the same intern from before. The tour group laughed.

Connors made a silencing motion with his hand for silence and they all obeyed. Their eyes all kept traveling back and forth between him and Peter.

"Heh. A-And you are…," inquired Connors, impressed and stunned by Peter's analysis.

Peter deadpanned, unable to pronounce his name. If he did so eh would startle Dr. Connors before a proper introduction in private.

Gwen saved Peter by the bell.

"He's one of Midtown Sciences best and brightest," said Gwen, interceding on Peter's behalf.

"Really," said Connors. Gwen said "he's second in his class."

"Oh." said Connors, smiling.

"Second," said Peter.

"Yeah," said Gwen, nodding, smug.

"You sure about that," jibed Peter.

"I'm pretty sure," countered Gwen.

Neither had the opportunity to continue this lovely banter. Not only did other people surround them, but, also, an unexpected visitor recently arrived on the scene.

"Father."

In unison everyone looked around Dr. Connors as he turned to see the speaker. A bright smile lighting his face a sparkles in his eyes there. The reason why was easily obvious.

Phoebe Connors maneuvered through the numerous workstations in the lab to get to her father. She was carrying a large paper bag delicately in her hands the smile formed on her lips basically making her face glow. She then shared a loving embrace with her father pecking him on the cheek.

Arm wrapped around Phoebe, Connors said "Everyone may I introduce my daughter Phoebe."

"Hello," said Phoebe, softly.

The interns either waved or spoke reflection to her salutations except for one.

Peter was speechless making an immense effort to keep restrained from revealing himself to her now. As he told his Uncle Ben he'd seen Phoebe many occasions before, but now that he was aware she's his twin sister. Well he was never going to look at her the same way again. She was seen in a whole difference light for now on. Honestly he kept thinking he was such a big idiot for not noticing things about her before that they shared. Phoebe, bare of glasses, they had the same eye color and shape. Hair was so dark it was almost black, but the shades were similar. Everywhere he looked there were resembling features.

"What are you doing here, Love," said Connors.

Head tilted, lifting the bag in her arms, Phoebe said "I've got your lunch. I thought we could eat together during your break."

"That sounds lovely, Phoebe," chuckled Connors. His cellphone then went off. Checking the message there was a separate matter that required his attention. One he wasn't looking forward to in the least. "I'm afraid duty calls. I'll leave you in the more-than-capable hands of Miss Stacy. Nice meeting you all."

Connors walked away a hand pressed against Phoebe's back leading her away, saying "Why don't you wait in my office. I'll join you shortly."

Smiling Phoebe did as requested while Connors went in the opposite direction. Peter didn't take his eyes off her once until she moved out of range losing sight of her.

Later on Phoebe took her leave from her fathers office to go to the bathroom. In her absence Connors had a meeting with Dr. Raji Ratha. He's an Oscorp executive working directly under Norman Osborn and Connor's immediate superior. He wanted an update on developments from Connors most recent experiments.

"We received the results from the mRNA sequences this morning," said Connors, solemn, tapping his fingertips absently on his deck. "They were disappointing."

Far from pleased, flatly, Dr. Ratha prompted "So define 'disappointing'."

Elaborating, Connors said "Another dead end. It's the decay rate algorithm. But this is to be expected."

"Expected," said Dr. Ratha, aghast, tone of voice indicating his tolerance was thin. "You said you were close."

"We are close, but it's gonna to take time," said Connors, imploringly.

"He doesn't have time. Norman Osborn is dying Dr. Connors," said Dr. Ratha.

From the corner of his eye Connors saw his daughter nearly back at his office returning from the restroom. This conversation is about to become no longer private.

Clearing his throat, subtly nodding in her direction, Connors advised "Perhaps we should continue this another time when the time is more agreeable. As usual I'll keep you informed regularly."

"You'd better find the cure soon. Save him, Dr. Connors," warned Dr. Ratha, rising to leave, recognizing a retreat was in order. "Or we'll both lose our heads." He crossed paths with Phoebe when he exited.

So to avoid getting bumped by Dr. Ratha Phoebe took a step away from the doorway allowing the man to pass first. His expression was blank and tense leaving her wondering what caused him to be so agitated. It wasn't uncommon for Phoebe to see the man out of sorts after a meeting with her father.

Shutting the door, Phoebe asked "What was that all about?"

Deflating in the chair, Connors sighed "The usual. How the department isn't progressing fast enough for Osborn's liking."

"Ha! Maybe he should come here, do all these experiments himself if he wants everything perfect so badly. You should tell him that, Papa," suggested Phoebe.

"And be dismissed as consequence," scoffed Connors, shaking his head. "No, I don't think I will, though the idea is tempting."

Shrugging, slipping into the seat Dr. Ratha vacated, Phoebe arranged the food she bough between them.

Connors asked "So, Phoebe, why have you really come to visit?"

"What do you mean," denied Phoebe, evasive.

"Phoebe," scolded Connors, "I can see it in your eyes. There's something weighing heavily on your mind."

Stiffening, Phoebe admitted "It's the Emerging Authors Competition Miss Zorski told my class about. I'm not going to enter."

"What," said Connors, surprised. "But Phoebe you're a magnificent writer. You've always written such fabulous short stories for school."

"But that's the thing, Papa, I've hit a major severe case of writers block," said Phoebe. "What if I lose my muse?"

Rubbing his hand soothingly over Phoebe's knuckles in comfort, Connors said "You'll find your muse, Darling. Trust me. A story will come to you. You just need to wait patiently."

"All right, Papa, I will," said Phoebe, smiling, grateful.

"Good," said Connors, waving his hand at the food, "now show me what you've brought. Our lunch is cooling by the minute."

Father and daughter proceeded with their afternoon meal blissfully ignorant of the figure observing intently from the shadows.


	6. Chapter 6

**Listen With Your Heart Chapter 5**

Peter couldn't stop thinking about his sister every hour on the hours, but now something far more sinister was added to the mix of all this craziness.

Ever since he'd gotten back from Oscorp, Peter had been experiencing strange symptoms that came to a head when he woke up the next day. Previously he'd been delirious, breaking out in a cold sweat, and extremely tired. Also, Peter had eaten an outrageous amount of food he never should've been able to consume in one sitting before. In the morning Peter's delirium subsided, but was replaced with brand new sensations.

All his senses were enhanced tenfold. He could hear, feel, and see things that never caught his attention before along with heightened agility and strength. Peter thought he might be asleep and pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Turns out he wasn't. Then he remembered the spider he'd pulled from his neck the night previous and that he'd had dozens of genetically altered spiders fall on him when he was at Oscorp. He thought he'd knocked all of them off, but the one that remained hidden in his clothes must've bitten and left its mark without him knowing.

Investigating further into spiders on his computer Peter pulled up multiple files on webpages searching for the source of what was ailing him. He compared what his body was undergoing to the diseases that came with regular spider bites for an explanation. During his search into his fathers scientific work on the arachnids Peter discovered a new symptom. Realizing what he was typing into his keyboard was no longer legible he looked down at his hands and found the letters on the device were stuck to his fingers without any sort of explanation.

At this point Peter was seriously freaked out. He needed to dig deeper if he were to find out what was happening to him inside and out.

Later on in the day Peter was sitting outside his room on the canopy that stood over the stoop of the house with one leg dangling off. Earlier he'd gone to the nearest bookstore to buy Curt Connors book and was now looking at it along with the data he'd found in his fathers briefcase.

Peter noted the decay rate algorithm was a focus on both sides. By what he'd written down Richard Parker had completed the formula, but failed to give it to Connors before his disappearance and death.

Peter wondered why that was.

During this time his Uncle Ben was returning from his shift at work when he saw Peter sitting dangerously off the edge.

"Peter," said Uncle Ben.

"Hmm," said Peter, throwing his head up.

Worriedly, Uncle Ben said "What are you doing up there?"

"I'm, uh…," said Peter, trying to think of something that wouldn't let on to what he was up to. "Homework."

Heading inside, pointing at Peter's leg, Uncle Ben said "Be careful."

"Sure," said Peter, humoring his Uncle Ben by retracting his leg.

Turning over the book Peter saw a photograph of Dr. Connors on the back. Tracing the outskirts of the picture Peter made a decision he'd avoided for some time.

Perhaps it was time to brave a visit to the good doctor under his real name instead of the one he stole at the labs. There were a lot of questions he wanted answered. Questions he knew his aunt and uncle would never be capable of completely providing suitable responses by themselves.

 **Authors Note:**

 **So Peter is finally going to confront Dr. Connors. Wonder what he's going to learn there.**


End file.
